Ice to Meet You
by MochiUs
Summary: To Fukui, this day will always be remembered as the snowman incident.


**A/N: Happy birthday Rikan! A rarepair for you, just like you ordered!**

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Kensuke Fukui had his fair share of male genitals. He was not too shy to admit that he was one of those young hormonal preteens who would assert their male dominance and drew penises in every desk and notebook with a snicker on his lips. There have also been days when he would accidentally have a sneak peek of somebody's junk in the locker rooms. On those days he would scrub his eyes with soap and body wash until the mental image disappeared from his memories.

However, nothing could prepare him for the penis bestowed before him.

"… Is that a pe-"

A hand wrapped itself around his scarf and grappled him to the ground. The wind was knocked out of him.

Though his head was encased in snow, he could hear nervous laughter from above.

"Pretty! He was talking about your pretty snowman!"

The hand that previously attacked him earlier loosened its grip, which gave Fukui the opportunity to lift his head and suck in a huge breath. He shook his head like a dog, shaking away sprinkles of snow from his hair. He sputtered out the icy particles from his shivering lips and spun around to glare at the culprit. Hyuuga Junpei towered over him with his hands on his hips; Fukui could spot a vein threatening to pop out of its vessel.

The bespectacled man hunched over and harshly whispered into his ear, "Do you want to get yourself killed?! You're lucky I just saved your ass!"

Fukui glanced back at the source of all his troubles. Mocking him was a poorly made snowman, or rather, the penis-shaped upper portion of a snowman. He paled at how obtuse and obvious it looked and had to gesture at the ridiculous sight.

"Do you want us to get kicked out of here for public indecency?"

Hyuuga simply looked back at him with dead eyes. "It's your funeral," he muttered and stomped away.

Fukui internally cursed this absurd situation and slowly raised himself up. He brushed away the remaining snow from his bangs and wondered how he ended up here, making snow sculptures and participating in snowball fights with the other Seirin members.

At one moment, Yosen was having a joint training session with Seirin. He doesn't remember the logistics, but the training was involved with resistance and their calves. Then he's suddenly here, apparently being forced to tolerate Riko's inappropriate artwork. Hopefully there are no kids passing by.

He glimpsed at Seirin's coach and gave her a quick once-over. Despite the rare violent tendencies he witnessed from afar, the young coach was quite cute and reliable. She may seem overly harsh and demanding, but there was reason behind each exercise and stretch. If she didn't have a protection squad defending her honor, he wouldn't have minded striking a short conversation. Even though this was his first impression of her, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. He likes that about a woman.

If he had more time, he would have constructed a sound strategy to approach her, but alas, his teammates had other plans as Okamura bellowed out a challenge.

He pointed one beefy finger against Seirin's ace.

"I challenge you to a snowball fight!"

The redhead wore a devilish smirk and rolled up the sleeves of his jacket.

"You're on!" he shouted as a response. "Loser pays everyone hot chocolate!"

"As if, little man!"

"Say that again to my face!"

Fukui sighed and rolled his eyes. He had enough excitement for the day and waved his hand to announce he was retiring from the war. He hustled over to the sidelines to get out of the line of fire.

Hypothetically, his escape would have been a success if Murasakibara didn't intervene. The tallest player in his team bumped into his shoulder while carrying a boatload of ammo in his arms. The underclassman didn't even apologize as Fukui lost his footing, twisted his trunk, and stumbled straight into…

He blanched.

Then for the second time that day, his face went headfirst into the snow, and worst of all, his face decimated Riko's snowman.

"Hey!"

Fukui wouldn't mind having a girl's attention, but this is not the way to go. The mortification made him briefly leave his body and visit the void. After all, the experience of slamming into a phallic snowman could do that to a weak-willed man.

A gloved hand roughly pulled his collar, saving him from the freezing abyss. That was unfortunate considering he wanted to burrow his head even further into the ground.

"Great," he heard. "It's ruined."

Riko's initial reaction was to be majorly pissed toward the ungrateful guy who wrecked her masterpiece. For once, everybody appreciated her effort. Anybody who had a good look at her detailed sculpture turned red in the face as if it was love at first sight. They ended up speechless with gaping mouths, and in her book, that meant that her snowman was an example of perfection. She was proud of her handiwork, spending at least an hour on her snowman's chiseled jaw. She was giving herself a pat on the back until this jerk murdered her creation right in front of her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Riko frowned. Yosen's vice-captain sounded terribly miserable as if he committed the greatest sin of them all. Oddly, she felt slightly flattered that the man regretted his actions to this extent.

"Hey," she said in a softer, gentler voice. "I'm not that mad about it."

Fukui covered his face with his hands. "I can't believe I touched it and-"

Even though the two were not on the same page, Riko never had the chance to figure that out because while she was consoling Fukui, she saw a gigantic snowball hurtling towards them at the corner of her eye.

"Watch out!" she yelled and reflexively pushed Fukui out of the way.

Fukui was about to ask what she meant until he paled at the fist that flashed in front of his face. It was a hair's breadth away, but that didn't matter as a snowball the size of a grapefruit exploded right before his very eyes. The impact was like a bomb that had just been set off.

He blinked away the snow powder from his eyelashes, but he wasn't sure if he was alive at this point.

"I'm so sorry about that," Riko said in a panicked voice. She kneeled by his side and brushed away the residual fragments from his face. Honestly, she didn't have to because they would have melted from the heat creeping up his cheeks.

"No problem," he croaked.

He wanted to pummel himself for sounding like a prepubescent boy all over again. Flustered a bit from the close distance, he scooted himself backwards before she could do something dire like straddling his hips.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly but couldn't make eye contact. "I'm fine," he added.

He should have been careful of what he wished for. He wanted to talk with the girl, but here he is, fumbling over their first, real encounter like a buffoon.

Riko raised here eyebrows at the jerky reaction, but didn't overthink it. He seemed like an earnest guy.

Fukui took a deep breath. Well, obviously he has nothing left to lose. His dignity left him a long time ago ever since the dick-shaped snowman incident.

He stood up and patted away the snow on his body with a scowl on his face. God, he is so sick of snow right about now. He offered Riko a hand, which she graciously accepted as he supported her up. Ignoring the warmth from her small hands, he gathered the courage to say the words burgeoning in his throat.

"Thanks for saving me back there. I want to make it up to you." He should stop fiddling with his gloves, he noted. He tensed up his shoulders and willed himself to speak. "Would you like to have some hot chocolate together?"

Riko widened her eyes. Her ears started to pinken. She opened her mouth to answer.

However, before she could, a snowball the size of a watermelon smacked Fukui's face.

"Ha! Take that Yosen scum!"

Kagami didn't know what he had just done.


End file.
